Goosebumps
by Glisseo
Summary: When Remus falls ill just as the Christmas trees are due to be decorated at Hogwarts, James steps in to help Lily. Fluttery feelings abound.


_A little bit of Christmas ... something. I don't know. For __**Dee**__, without whom I would have probably written nothing this year. _

* * *

"What do you get when you cross a snowman with a vampire?"

"I don't know," said Lily. Her lips were twitching in that wonderfully endearing way. "What _do _you get when you cross a snowman with a vampire?"

"Frostbite."

She groaned, and James grinned.

"That's _terrible_."

"Well, it's a Muggle joke," said James, shrugging. "I didn't think they believed in vampires, but Peter gave me a Muggle joke book last Christmas and this was in the festive section. What colour tinsel do you think for this branch here, red or gold?"

"Why are red and gold my only choices? What about silver, or –"

"House pride, Evans! Red or gold, or you can go and work on that tree over there with the Slytherins. Go on, off you pop, if you're so fond of silver."

Lily glanced over at the corner where the Slytherin prefects were working, pulled a face, and then turned back to James, her hair swinging over her shoulder. "Gold."

"Good choice."

His arm brushed against hers as he leant up to twirl his wand around the branch, and he quickly ducked his head so that she wouldn't see the blood rush to his face.

He hadn't been completely altruistic in offering to step in for Remus when the full moon had coincided with the decorating of the Great Hall; in fact, he had positively leapt at the opportunity. Spending his Saturday morning with Lily Evans was nothing short of wonderful in his book, and she looked particularly pretty today, with her dark red hair slightly less kempt than it was during the week. There was a small badge in the shape of a Christmas tree flashing different colours on the front of her jumper; it kept making him smile to look at.

She had swallowed his excuse for Remus' absence – ("Ah," he'd sighed, when she had raised an eyebrow at his appearance, "poor Remus has yielded to a debilitating cold. His sneezes are explosive – we were worried they would decimate our room, and possibly us, so we packed him off to the hospital wing.") – and actually seemed to be enjoying his company. She was fun to be around, he was discovering; she hummed ridiculous songs about red-nosed reindeer and made him laugh with her outrageous guesses of what the teachers would be getting for Christmas. Moreover, he was making _her _laugh, and every time she did, he felt a pleasant squirming sensation in his stomach.

"Well, that's the tinsel done," Lily announced, looking pleased. "Now, baubles …"

James raised his wand again, but she shook her head and stooped to pick up a cardboard box that had been sitting at her feet. She pushed it into his arms, and he frowned.

"Can't we just conjure them?"

"Some we can," said Lily, "but Professor Dumbledore is quite attached to these ones."

"They're not …"

"Recognise them?" Lily asked, her expression unreadable as she plucked a silver bauble from the box. It had a face painted on it, a face that, with its square spectacles, black hair and frown, was instantly recognisable as Professor McGonagall.

"But these are the ones Sirius and I did in first year!" James exclaimed in delight, grabbing the bauble from Lily and examining it closely. "I had no idea Dumbledore still used these!"

He and Sirius had thought they were in for it when, during a detention around Christmas of their first year - cleaning out one of Filch's supply cupboards – they'd found a box of enchanted paints and a box of plain Muggle baubles and set to work, painting rather good (in James' opinion) pictures of all the staff. The headmaster had come across them just as Sirius was painting his long white beard. Fortunately, Dumbledore had found the baubles hilarious, and insisted on keeping them, although he had made sure James and Sirius finished the job they were actually supposed to be doing.

"You're lucky he has a sense of humour," Lily commented. She was smirking now as she inspected Slughorn's painted face. "I'm not sure McGonagall likes them as much."

"I bet she secretly loves them," said James cheerfully, his spirits even higher. "I can't wait to tell Sirius about this!"

"I'm surprised he's not here helping you out. I thought you two were inseparable."

"Well," said James, deftly hooking the McGonagall bauble over a branch, "less so since we got the Sticking Charm removed."

He heard a snort and glanced around, grinning; Lily was shaking her head, a hand pressed to her eyes.  
"You're ridiculous."

"I say ridiculous things," James corrected. "I myself am actually a remarkably level-headed person. I take little pleasure from irresponsible or dangerous activities. Anyway, yeah, Sirius was going to help, but he's busy organising the snowball fight for this afternoon, in which I assume you are participating …"

Lily rolled her eyes. "_I _want to, but my friends don't, and I don't have a team without them thanks to your stupid rule that you can't join with people from other houses."

"I'll ignore that," said James generously, "and instead extend to you an offer that most people would die for. Why don't you join our team?"

"Your team?"

He shook his finger at her. "Don't smirk like that, we're a force to be reckoned with. Peter's got a wicked underarm that no one expects, Sirius just smiles at the opposition and takes them down that way, the devilishly handsome bastard that he is, and Remus is a demon when it comes to building up the ammunition, although I suppose we'll have to do without him this year … you could help there," he added thoughtfully.

"What about you?" asked Lily.

"Me?" said James. "I'm a Chaser." He raised his eyebrows at her, reached into his pocket for a crumpled ball of parchment he knew he'd left there, and, quick as a flash, lobbed it across the Hall, where it bounced off Rosier's head and landed at Professor Flitwick's feet.

"Sorry!" James called, waving an apologetic hand as Rosier spun around, scowling. "My arm slipped …"

He turned back to Lily, who looked half reluctantly impressed, half amused.

"So? What do you say?"

It was the longest pause of his life.

"All right then," she said eventually. "As long as we win. What's the prize, anyway?"

James thought quickly. "A lifetime's supply of jokes provided by yours truly," he supplied, "and … and a bauble painted with a likeness of your own face."

"_Ridiculous_."

"You won't be saying that when we win," said James airily, although, when Lily smiled, he felt rather as though he already had won.

* * *

Her feet seemed to be taking an age to defrost; her toes were a fetching shade of purple, and one pair of socks, Lily decided, was not going to cut it. She left Sirius, James and Peter loudly and jubilantly recounting every detail of their glorious victory to the rest of the common room and slipped up to her dormitory, wondering if the thick socks her nan had knitted were back from the laundry yet. She felt an enormous sneeze hit her as she rummaged through her bedside table; she was probably coming down with a cold, though she couldn't help but feel that it had been worth it. It had been the most enjoyable afternoon – no, day – that she'd had in a long time.

She found the socks – casting a Warming Charm before she donned them – and shoved the drawer closed with her knee. As she did, something rolled off the top of the table and hit the wooden floor with a hollow, metallic thud. Crouching down, she caught the thing before it rolled under her bed, and felt a silly grin spread over her face, not unlike the one that James had skilfully painted on the bauble that she held in her hand.

Still grinning, she put it carefully in her pocket and returned to the common room. James looked up as she entered; their eyes met.

"Ridiculous," she mouthed at him, and tried to ignore the way her heart raced when his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled.


End file.
